Leaving him behind
by Samcgrath11
Summary: Sherlock feels when John leaves him behind to go on dates. John-lock. Suck at summaries. Rated T for future chapters. Please rate and review, thanks.
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock was curled up on the couch, trying to focus. That was never an issue until John Hamish Watson. He could always drown out the world and everyone in it, even Anderson but then John happened. Right now he was out- on a _date. _What Sherlock didn't get was, why John went on these dates. It never worked out so then why did he bother?

And then there was the part of _him_ being bothered. The fact that John was with someone else right now, talking and probably being sweet John and interesting John bothered him. A lot. It's not like they would've talked a lot had he been home. John would probably be blogging while Sherlock lay dead on the sofa. But at least John would be home-with him.

Instead he was out, trying to find a companion. Now _that _thought really just baffled him. He could not think of a possible explanation as to why John being romantically involved with someone would rattle him so much. Actually he could think of one but he'd always suppress it as inappropriate or rather impossible.

'What is the deal with John, anyway? He insists on celebrating useless occasions like Christmas and having a swarm of people over- people he'd much rather see on a necessity basis. John insists on him being more social and forth-coming. He even invited Mycroft over for tea last week, Sherlock wasn't very pleased but he went along with it.

And then he went around and did this-leaving him alone. Sherlock felt betrayed when John went out with Lestrade or on his _dates. _But he couldn't say anything or much less object because John would ask why and he wouldn't know what to say. But it was unfair, on one hand John encouraged him to spend time with people but then he himself went out on his own leaving him behind, he never asked Sherlock to come along. And Sherlock couldn't say he wanted to come along if John didn't want him there. So, he just sat there in the living room watching John move about getting ready to go out. Waiting for John to ask him to come along but he never did.'

Sherlock got up with a start, he was really annoyed. 'Why won't John just pick a side. Either take me with him or just leave me alone and quit forcing me to_socialize_. Why doesn't he understand that he's the only person I want to spend time with.' Huh.

'He is an idiot.' Sherlock sneered.

_Are you done? - SH._

He had sent that text over an hour ago and still no reply. He hated it when John didn't reply to his texts. Especially when he was out on a _date._

He fell back on the couch and closed his eyes. He hadn't slept in over two days and finally sleep took over him.

Sherlock woke up to some movement around him, John had come back and was now putting a blanket over him. Sherlock looked up at John and saw the doctor giving him a reassuring smile. He put his head back down and closed his eyes.

John was home. Everything was okay. He was okay.

Till another day. When John decided to leave him behind again. But now he was home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thanks everyone for reading the first chapter, I hope you all like this one too. Rate and Review, it means a lot. Thanks.**

John had been on his case for over a week now. He wanted both of them to go see a movie. Sherlock had said no and maintained that for a good two days but in the end like every other time had given in. Given in to John Watson.

Sherlock had seen the trailer for the movie, it wasn't anything exciting. But then there were hardly many things that appealed to Sherlock Holmes. He had anyhow given in and agreed to go watch it with John. That was supposed to happen on Friday. But it didn't.

What happened instead is that John forgot. He had been pestering Sherlock for a good five days while Sherlock went from 'No, John I'm not going' to 'Okay, fine I will go with you.' But then John stopped pestering him. He didn't say what he usually said when Sherlock gave in helplessly," Oh come on Sherlock, cheer up will you? I promise you will like it." No, John didn't say that this time. And that was the last he spoke of it.

As the day came closer, Sherlock actually looked forward to it which confused him. He never looked forward to anything unless it was a murder or two. But he really did, he waited for the day. He didn't bring it up in conversation though, that would be seriously out-of-character. But he waited for John to bring it up, he waited for John to say something like, "So, I've got the tickets for Friday. You're really going to like it." Or something like," So Sherlock, ready for this Friday?" But it never came, John never said it.

Instead Sherlock heard him being all excited over the phone with someone. Sherlock was fixated on his microscope, looking at sand samples when he heard John come up the stairs laughing. He had gone out to get groceries, Sherlock remembered. When he walked through the door, Sherlock noticed that John was empty-handed and talking excitedly into his phone. He walked straight to his chair and flopped down. John never flopped down- that was new. He was talking to someone he knew quite well, hence the smiling. It couldn't be Harriet, they had fought just two days ago. Lestrade? no. Lestrade was working right now, he wouldn't be talking at such length. Mycroft? No, John didn't like Mycroft enough to chat with him on the phone. Who was it then?

Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts and listened in. "Hahaha, that was a good time. But it has been so long since I last went to a pub. Oh this weekend? Yes, I am free. Are you sure? Oh that's great, then. I'll see you then. Bye."

Sherlock looked up from his microscope in John's direction," You went to get groceries." He simply stated and noticed the wheels turning on John's face. He had a look of sudden realisation.

"Oh fuck. I forgot the groceries."

Sherlock tilted his head a bit and gave him an inquisitive look. John 'forgot' the groceries. "I was talking on the phone and totally forgot about the groceries. Oh my God." And he gave a short laugh and went to the kitchen.

Sherlock was wondering what happened here? John never 'forgot' things. Who was this mysterious caller that made him forget? That he was going out with this weekend?

John answered his questions a couple of minutes later when he came in with two cups of tea and set one down next to Sherlock's hand. He began, "That was Benedict, an old mate. We were together in school and in Afghanistan. I hadn't talked to him in a long while. And then out of the blue he called me today and we talked about all these memories in the past. He's in London right now, we are going out this weekend. To a pub just like old times. It should be fun." He had a huge smile on his face and a giddy look in his eyes, like he was thinking back to something- something pleasant. "Well, Friday should be fun. I'm off to bed. You should get some sleep too. Good night, then."

And with that, John left the room and went upstairs to his bed. Sherlock was locked in the position he had been sitting while John went on like a love-struck schoolgirl.

Friday. FRIDAY.

They were supposed to go out to watch the movie on Friday. John just told _Benedict_to go with him to a pub. But they were supposed to go on Friday. WHO THE FUCK IS THIS BENEDICT?

Sherlock didn't get much sleep that night. He didn't bother, actually. Lying on his sofa, his hands tucked under his chin, fingers touching, eyes closed as he went through the whole episode again and again.

John asked him to go to a movie with him. John pestered him till he said yes(he was always going to say yes. He could hardly say no to John. But he couldn't say yes at once, John would sense something was up. Not that anything was up. But just, it was out of character.) So then Sherlock had said yes and John had stopped talking about it. He 'forgot' about it and decided to go out with _Benedict _on the same day. Go out to a pub. John never asked him to go to a pub.

As he was busy replaying this over and over in his head, John came in. He squinted at Sherlock before walking to kitchen. "Didn't sleep, again?"

Sherlock didn't reply. He didn't feel like.

"Oh hey, I am going out tonight so you will have to order food. You haven't eaten since yesterday. You are going to get sick if you keep this up. I will go get the groceries today. You should eat."

Sherlock didn't budge. He stayed still and absorbed every word that came out of John's mouth. TODAY. GOING OUT TODAY.

Was it Friday already? Oh it must be. Huh, so he is going with that _Benedict._

John took a shower and got ready while Sherlock lay where he was stark-still. John came downstairs to pour the tea and read the morning paper. Sherlock was fighting a strong urge to bring up _Benedict _and his plans for tonight. But that would be Sentiment. Sentiment- a chemical found in the losing side.

And so he kept quiet, like he always did when the slightest bit of sentiment tugged at his heart. He had one of those too as opposed to what Anderson or Donovan believed. He kept his eyes and his mouth shut. In about an hour, John got up and announced that he was going out to get the groceries. Sherlock didn't react. He was still laying in the same pose when John returned a good three hours later with hands full of bags. John took care of the groceries and went upstairs to his room. Sherlock could hear him talking on the phone. He kept still and tried not to listen in on what John was saying.

John came into the living room sometime later, dressed up in khakis and a beige sweater he was certain he had never seen before. He looked a bit different-oh he had shaved. Sherlock could now smell John's after-shave. He was walking around the living room, looking for something. Sherlock just stayed where he was, didn't make an effort.

John started, "Sherlock, I am going out. Ben and I are going to watch a movie and then Lestrade will be meeting us at the pub so I should be home by midnight but I am not sure. I will eat out so you are going to have to order something. You haven't eaten in so long, do you want me to order something? Or bring you back something?"

No.

That was all he could manage. No. John was still moving about, "Well make sure you eat something. And you need to sleep. Don't wait up." He picked up his wallet from under the newspapers and walked out the door. He didn't look back.

Sherlock sat up as he heard the front door shut. He felt a bit dizzy from getting up so fast. But he couldn't care less about that right now. John had just left him to go see a movie with _Ben_ and _Lestrade!_ John had just left him and he hadn't even looked back.

John just left him behind.

John had done it again. He had left him behind to go out with someone else. This time again, John was the one who had been at his case to go watch a movie. John was the one who had planned it. But then in the end he had gone and left him behind. Sherlock couldn't have said, 'No John we are supposed to go out this Friday.' No, he couldn't have done that. Sherlock was just doing something John wanted him to do. He was just obliging John.

But somewhere along the way John had decided to go with _Ben_ instead. He hadn't even remembered that he had asked Sherlock, it never occurred to him. He was _that_ insignificant.

Sherlock knew he felt things, he may not show that to the world but he had feelings alright. But he believed that feelings made a person vulnerable. Feelings put a person in a weak spot, where they could be easily attacked because of the said feelings. He had learnt at a very young age that caring was a disadvantage. With the life he led, he couldn't afford any disadvantages that his opponents could use against him.

Sherlock waited around for John for hours. He didn't text him, if John didn't reply to his text he didn't know how he would react. More probable than he, he might lash out. That was never good, in his experience.

So he waited, midnight passed. He had stood by the window for half an hour expecting John to return any minute. He didn't.

It was now 1:05 am. He was still waiting in the living room. All the while, he was replaying the episode in his mind. It was one of those annoying habits he had picked up courtesy of John Watson. He now found himself replaying moments and memories often. Analysing observations over and over to possibly get different outcomes. He was the one who said never assume or guess. He was the one who always said when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, _however improbable_, must be the truth. And here he was hoping what he thought was just_ an_ outcome not _the_ outcome.

What had John done to him?

1:20 am. He had been toying with his cell phone for a long while now and could no longer stop himself from tying out a text to John.

Where are you? –SH

1:28 am. No reply. Sherlock was staring at the screen of the phone, waiting for it to ring. It didn't.

How much longer will you take? -SH

1:34 am. No reply. Was he busy? With _Ben_? Was he okay?

That last thought scared him. There were not a lot of things that could scare the great Sherlock Holmes but the last time Moriarty had put John in a bomb he knew John's safety was one of those things.

He dialed John's number. It went straight to voice-mail. Sherlock panicked, he had to get through to John. Lestrade.

He dialled Lestrade, Voicemail.

Bit not good.

He dialed Lestrade again, this time he picked up. If he said anything, Sherlock couldn't hear it. The music was too loud, still in the pub then.

He waited for Lestrade to walk out and finally when he could hear him slurring, he shouted into the phone, "Is John okay?"

"Sherlock? What are you still doing up? Oh wait, you are always up. You should have come, it's fun."

"Is John okay?" he repeated himself.

"Yes, of course he is. Why wouldn't he be? Are you alr-"

He hung up as soon as he heard John was okay. The rest was unimportant. So John was okay and he still didn't reply to his texts.

He didn't pick up his call.

For the past seven months he had been keeping his calm and waiting for John to realise how insensitive he was being. Sherlock had suppressed any and all urges to have a full-blown confrontation with John. He had been in constant denial for months now. While John kept being as ignorant toward him as he could possibly be. John kept stringing him along and then leaving him behind. This had gone on for too long. Why would-

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and before he even had a second to comprehend what was going on John was standing in the door, panting. His cane was nowhere to be seen and from the state of him he had run up the stairs and God knows how long he had been running. He stood there huffing as Sherlock stood up and looked at him.

John croaked out, "Are you alright? You called me, is everything okay?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, why did you call me then?"

"Why didn't you pick up?"

"I was busy."

"With _Ben_?"

"But why did you call? And you texted."

"You didn't reply."

"I said I was busy. Is it something important?"

"No, I was bored."

John gave a little laugh," You don't just call people three times and ring their friends while they are out because you are bored."

" ".

"You have to be joking. For the first time in years I was actually having fun without worrying about anything. And you had to go and ruin it for me. Come on Sherlock, can't you let me be happy for one day? Can't you let me have one day of peace?"

That's when he lost it.

That's when Sherlock Holmes lost the-oh-so precious patience he prided himself with. That last part of what John said tore apart whatever semblance of calm he had left.

"Peace? You are one to talk about peace. When for months you have been toying with me. You force me to be this polished, social version of myself interacting with people I'd much rather never see again. You force me to come out of my shell and be open. You force me to tear down the walls I've built over years to protect me and then you hurt me. Then you give me a whole new reason to rebuild those walls. John, you should not be talking about peace."

"You asked **me** to go to the movies with you but right in front of me you ask this _Benedict _to go see the movie with you. You begged me to go out with you but then you turn around and tell me Lestrade and I are going to the pub, don't wait up. You tell me to be social and then leave me behind to go out on a _date. _You don't answer my texts, you're are gone all night and then come back asking for me to be social when **you are the only person I want to be social to. **You are the only person in this world I want to open up to. And you leave me behind to suffer in my loneliness while you are out. I have been struggling for months to understand and deal with this, this helplessness and this blinding rage that you leave me behind with and you are telling me _I_ don't let you have peace. I haven't slept in two weeks and that's new even for me. I have been unable to concentrate on work with this seething rage gnawing at me every second of every minute and you want _me_ to leave _you_ in peace?"

Sherlock was done. Now, he was done. He had said everything that was on his mind. He felt relief wash over him but only for a moment as he realised John was looking at him with his eyes wide open and his jaw hitting the floor.

Sherlock Holmes waited for what felt like centuries for his blogger to react to his outburst.


End file.
